Gentle
by Gentle Breezes
Summary: Pre-Jak II one-shot. Ashelin helps Torn with an injury, and Torn speaks before he thinks. Never tell Ashelin Praxis she is "gentle". Torn/Ashelin if you squint.


**Disclaimer: **Guess who was responsible for creating the Jak and Daxter games? Not me. If I were the one behind them, the characters wouldn't be half as cool.

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><p>It was midnight and all was quiet in the vicinity of the Krimson Guard training grounds. Whoever had night duty was already on the job, and whoever didn't was asleep. As for herself, Ashelin Praxis had not retired to her room in the palace yet, trying to ease her nerves from the busy day as she cleaned her Vulcan gun. She took her time, admiring the way the black metal glinted in the armory light. It was a good weapon, and one of the few that she hadn't discard within a year's time because of damage. A trusty thing, though a little old, this gun was something her mother had left behind after she died. Her father had given it to her soon after she entered the Krimson Guard, saying her mother had wanted her to have it when she was old enough. It was her closest asset in battle, never failing her or those around her.<p>

Her memories were interrupted by the sound of an adjacent door slamming open, the noise of footsteps following. She smirked. A squad of men had been sent on a mission to destroy a nest of metal head eggs found too close to the city. Judging by their muffled grumbling they had _just_ gotten back and it hadn't been pretty. But, they all sounded like they were in one piece, so she guessed that they'd been successful.

Come to think of it, her partner Torn had been sent on that mission. She had stayed behind to train some new recruits, and he, being more experienced than herself, had taken 10 men out to Dead Town. She smiled to herself, continuing to polish her gun. It wasn't often that either of them took solo missions. While most higher-ups preferred to work by themselves, they preferred to work together because they always did their best when they had each other's backs. It was odd compared to most others, who moved faster and did better when not hampered by a second mouth protesting or putting in their opinion. But for her, having the reassurance of someone who can back up your decisions was good, and she and Torn agreed more often than not. She just hoped he'd made it back with his head still attached to his shoulders. He was good at what he did, but metal heads could be unpredictable.

Another noise brought her out of her thoughts. Someone else walked through the hallway, the guys in the locker room leaving and wishing said person a goodnight. There was the sound of a few lockers being opened, some grumbling, things being moved around, and then silence. More silence. And then, a few loud obscenities were rasped into the air.

She refused to smile but it escaped anyway, her eyes closing in amusement. It seemed like her partner was back. And, if his voice was of any indication, he was perfectly alive and well. Picking up her gun, she slowly opened the door to the armory and walked as silently as she could down the short hallway.

When she came to the door of the locker room, which was still open, she slowly walked into the doorway. Torn was sitting with his back to her, usual shirt and armor missing, the tattoos and scars on his back and shoulders clearly visible. He seemed to be concentrated on his upper-left arm. She shook her head. Even though he was a commander, he could still be careless once in a while. He had probably covered some kid and taken the injury himself, the idiot. Even after all that training in the Krimson Guard he still had something of a heart.

Her eyes grew wide for a brief moment as she looked at the deep gashes on his arm, which he was trying to wrap but doing so very clumsily. His hands were shaking from the leftover adrenaline of the day. She narrowed her eyes in exasperation, not bothering to keep her footsteps quiet any longer. He turned around, one end of the gauze wrapping in his teeth and a look of surprise on his face. Before he could speak, she put her gun down and sat on the bench beside him, holding out her hand to receive the gauze. He glared at her tiredly for just a moment, as if to say _I don't need this right now just let me fix my arm. _She glared right back as if to say _you're doing it wrong, don't be so stubborn and give me the gauze or so help me. _He finally rolled his eyes and sighed, taking the gauze out of his mouth and holding his arm out to her.

She gave him a scolding look, which caused him to give her a half-hearted eye roll while he propped his other arm up on his leg, resting his cheek in his hand. She asked him if he disinfected his wound. He said no, it was a clean swipe. Swipe, she asked? He gave up objecting at that point as she reached into the first aid kit and dipped a cotton ball in some strong disinfectant. Without telling him first she dabbed his wound, which caused him to sit straight up and swear loudly a few times before telling her that she should at least warn him. She tells him to quit whining and hold still.

They sit there in silence for a few minutes, him trying to fight off sleep and her concentrating on getting every inch of the gash cleaned. He clenches his jaw to resist making any sounds suggesting pain, and although she teases him about it and he just growls, she gives him a little sympathy when she starts dabbing his arm carefully with dry gauze. He relaxes a little more, sighing in relief now that the disinfectant is over with. She starts asking him questions about how it went. The soldiers in the squad were slowly making something out of themselves he explained, smirking as he talked about how green they still were. Whatever stories there were to tell made her laugh, because she knew they had both once been just as inexperienced, and that those days were so far behind them. And, no matter how much her partner makes fun of his soldiers, he takes care of them; Precursors know most of them don't have anyone else to look to.

She starts to wrap his arm gently, supporting his elbow with her knee so that his arm doesn't tire. His arm is actually quite heavy to try and keep up. Whatever he wears makes him look deceptively lanky, because in reality he does have quite a bit of muscle, and it becomes painfully obvious at moments like this. Sending that thought on its way as quickly as she could, she continues to eye his wound with a stern gaze mixed with a hint of softness, his occasional mutter of "ouch" causing her to smile in amusement.

Finally, when she is finished and starts tying the ends of the gauze into a knot, she yields to her tongue. She tells him he should be more careful; only idiots get hurt like this, and she doesn't want to have to come in here and find him doing this again. He turns his head slowly to look at her, eyes that she had forgotten were blue holding her own green ones. He says nothing, looking at her in a way that she concludes is either to commit every inch of her face to memory or look at her like she's gone crazy. She suddenly feels like a fool for what she's said.

And then, he smiles. Her expression betrays nothing, but she thinks (maybe even hopes) that it'll stop at just a small, regular smile. But true to the nature of her partner, it quickly turns into a teasing grin, and his eyes glimmer with amusement.

"Why Ashelin, I never knew you could be so gentle."

In the morning, the guards on duty the previous night tell everyone that they swear they heard a man yell bloody murder from the locker rooms near the armory. A few others claim to have caught a glimpse of Commander Torn walking stiffly, rubbing his left arm and wearing a scowl fit to kill, while Ashelin Praxis followed close behind, her gun casually slung over her shoulder and a smirk on her face.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>I'm so shameless. I have been itching to post something about these two, just because they're so cool. Torn especially; the guy's a beast. Now, if only he'd been there more of the time in Jak II. Hrm...

I know it's a bit long, so I apologize in advance. Your feedback is extremely welcome as always, and I REALLY want to hear what you think because, frankly, this thing needs some critiquing. Even if this sucks to you, tell me it sucked and why. At least I'll know what I'm doing. I also want to know because if this is not worth the read, I'll just take it down. XD Anyway, thanks for reading!


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